


Reconcile The Violence In Your Heart

by candlewaxmoon



Category: Polar (2019)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Early in Canon, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Guns, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon, Romance, Slow Burn, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-15 18:06:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29687859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/candlewaxmoon/pseuds/candlewaxmoon
Summary: Camille realizes at that moment- gun pointed at Duncan Vizla’s head- that she is wholly unable to pull the trigger. From the day she moved into the cabin across the lake, she had yet to find a reason to find the real Duncan quite as horrifying as the creature haunting her dreams.Camille's perspective through the beginning of the film, the hunt for her father's killer, and her unexpected new life in Triple Oak with Duncan.
Relationships: Camille (Polar)/Duncan Vizla | Black Kaiser
Comments: 3
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a very long time since I've written much of anything, but lockdown is long and this movie is great- so here we are! This was written for fun and my own personal enjoyment, but I hope someone out there might enjoy it as much as I have. Cheers!

It was shortly after Camille’s 28th birthday when she finally decided to go after the man who had killed her family. The man whose face she saw every time she closed her eyes- shocked expression painting her dreams.

She packs up her meager belongings, donating or selling anything she doesn’t intend on taking with her. She says goodbye to the older couple across the hallway that she has grown close to during the past few years. She had moved into the small one-bedroom apartment by herself after graduating from college and remembers struggling up the narrow stairs with boxes and furniture. Alex and Simon had taken the time to give her a hand, inviting her over for dinner after the hard work was done.

They were so welcoming- she almost didn’t trust their intentions at first but with time, grew comfortable enough to find friendship in them. She envied them at times- always having someone there, to talk to, and to listen. 

When they helped her pack up her things, still asking her why she would want to move to Triple Oak, Montana of all places, Alex told Camille to keep in touch- begged her actually.

“I want to see all your photos, I want you to call me at least once a week okay?” She had cried when she hugged Camille- the last of her boxes stuffed into the bright yellow Jeep. Simon gave her a tight hug, a strong expression holding back tears. He gave her the riot act as if she was his own daughter- no drinking, no drugs, no talking to strangers. Camille had laughed him off, tears pricking at her eyes at the same time.

The drive was excruciating- she felt so tired but drove for hours at a time without stopping. It was a few days before she finally reached the small town. She met her landlord, a middle-aged woman with straw-coloured hair pulled into a bun, in the small realtor office in town. The woman was warm and welcoming- offering to come and show her around the place after she was done work. She said the gas stove could be a bit finicky and let her know she would need to keep up with keeping the woodpile stocked through the cold winter.

Camille thanked her and made her way back into the town to explore, keys in hand. Though the town was small, she figured mostly everything she would need could be found in the number of stores lining the main drag. That or she could drive to the next town over, a bigger city with a large mall and community college. She stopped in front of a building with a bright yellow sign- the Triple Oak Dinner- and ducked in, sitting down at a barstool. She ordered a winter coffee, explaining to the girl taking her order what exactly that was.

“Coming right up!” The waitress was blonde and bubbly- maybe the same age as Camille. Her name tag read Emily.

“Are you new around here?” The girl placed a cup of hot coffee in front of Camille, pouring in a splash of bourbon and passing a container of maple syrup across the counter. Camille smiled, stirring in the sweet amber liquid.

“Yeah, I uh- just moved here.” Camille spoke softly, sipping slowly.

“Well, I’m Emily- nice to meet you!” 

“Camille.” Emily reaches across the bar to shake her hand, both smiling at each other.

“So, whereabouts are you living?” Emily is wiping down the counter taking her time there in order to get to know Camille.

“It’s up the road, I think 10 minutes from here- a cabin up by the lake. I haven’t even been yet, just got into town.”

“I know where that is- it’s beautiful up there! You are going to love it. Is it just you?” Emily is cheery as ever, wiping sweat from her brow and refilling the coffee filters.

“Yeaup- just me.” Camille finishes her coffee, feeling the warmth of the bourbon in her system already. She thanks Emily, and pays- promising to come back the next day once she has had a chance to settle in.

She ducks into the small gifts and supplies store and the woman at the cash register talks her ear off from the moment she walks in the door, to the moment she leaves. She learns her name is Linda and that she is her go-to should she have any questions about the town- Camille has no doubt the woman has tabs on everyone and knows anything there is to know about the place.

The road up to the cabin leads her out of the small downtown strip, up a winding path through tall pine trees, and over a two-lane bridge. She passes no one on her way, and the farther she drives, the eerier she feels.

She pulls around another tight bend in the road, the Jeep doing an excellent job of climbing uphill through the snow, and the cabin comes into view.

Camille kills the engine, jumping down from the driver’s seat, and takes a moment to appreciate her surroundings. It’s quiet- so quiet and peaceful. She jiggles the keys in the doorway, struggling for a moment before it turns and the lock clicks open.

The cabin is small but inviting. Camille unpacks her food, stocking the fridge and cabinets. She places the small bottle of bourbon on the counter for later.

She spends her afternoon unpacking- clothes tucked into the dresser drawer at the foot of her bed, camera and laptop equipment on the coffee table. It doesn’t take long to empty out the Jeep and Camille surveys her new home proudly. She had done it- she had come this far- and for a moment intrusive thoughts invade her mind.

_‘You're here for a reason.’_

_‘Where will you go when it’s over?’_

_‘Can you even do this?’_

Camille shakes her head. She grabs her coat and makes her way outside to the large pile of wood stacked beside the stairs leading up to the porch. 

\---

After 15 minutes of trying and failing to even split one log, Camille, frustrated and over the task entirely, gives up. Hopping in the truck she drives into town intent on asking Linda if she can buy firewood at least for now until she figures out the secret to chopping the large logs at her place.

Linda manages to turn the simple purchase into about a half an hour-long conversation, of which Camille is rarely given the chance to provide any input. Once she finally finds a natural break in the conversation- or speech? Camille thanks the woman, and carries the large mesh bag of split firewood out to her car. She looks through the window into the Diner and sees Emily still working.

“Back already?” Emily beams at her when she enters, and Camille gives a small smile.

“Yeah- you’re probably going to laugh at me but I couldn’t chop any of the firewood at my place to get a fire started. I had to just buy some- I feel useless.” Emily laughed, and Camille couldn’t help but join her. “Then I got stuck talking to Linda- at the store down the street? For like half an hour… I thought I would be there all night.”

Emily laughed even more, almost dropping the tray of glasses she was storing under the counter. “Linda is like that- lovely woman but my god can she ever talk.”

Camille ended up ordering dinner, and Emily joined her at the bar when her shift ended, picking at a plate of fries she had brought out with Camille’s food. The two talked for almost an hour.

Emily was attending college in the next town over and had chosen to stay with her parents to save some money. “I can’t wait to get out of this town.” Emily said when Camille asked what her plans were after she finished school. 

“I mean no offense- you just moved here and all. But I grew up here and sometimes, I mean I just want to explore the world. See something beyond Triple Oak, ya know?” Camille nodded, understanding.

“What brought you here anyway?” 

Camille hadn’t thought of how she might answer that question if asked. 

“I just wanted a change- the city is so busy. It can be...kind of overwhelming sometimes. I like the peace and quiet.” 

When the two leave the diner, Emily hands over her phone. Camille smiles at the gesture, entering her phone number. The girls agree to meet the following day when Emily is off work to go get dinner at one of the only other restaurants in town. 

During her drive home, Camille can’t help but smile at her conversation with Emily- it wasn’t what she had come out here intending to do exactly, but she had made a friend nonetheless and it made her happy. She pulled into her drive, hopped down, and rounded the vehicle only for her smile to drop. The woodpile she had failed so spectacularly at splitting earlier was neatly arranged against the wall each log now fully split into perfectly sized pieces. The long ax was buried in the large stump acting as a chopping block.

She looked around, confused. Walking up the steps into the cabin, she took a few moments to look around, checking behind doors and around corners. She breathed an uneasy sigh after finding nothing, no sign of any intruders. She quickly ran outside to grab a few logs, locking the door behind her. She lit a fire in the large hearth in the center of the cabin and laid down on the couch. Her long trip finally caught up with her, as she wrapped herself in a blanket, staring into the fire and falling asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you ever write a massive amount of content for a story then realize you want to re-write everything? Yeah- well here we go!

Camille had barely planned out what she would do when she found him.  _ ‘What do I even do if I don’t find him here…’ _ the thought entered her mind unbidden. What if he wasn’t here...what if he was already gone, moved on to another city, another country? She had nothing but the deposit information of the trust to go off of.

She didn’t have to think much longer on the train of thought when she saw him. Standing across the shop from him as Linda prattled on.

He was older definitely- dark hair now streaked with a gray, beard following suit and glasses perched on his nose. He was holding a boxed cake in his hand and looked...almost entirely the opposite of what she expected. He looked so normal.

“Oh hey there’s your neighbour! Did you happen to see anything peculiar out by your place over the past couple of days?” The woman prattles on as Camille picks up the stack of batteries she had accidentally knocked onto the ground. “Perhaps some sort of supernatural event of someone dumping a truckload of logs?”

The man speaks while propping a basket up on the counter, lackadaisical as anything. “No.”

“This young lady rents right up where you are. You can probably see her cabin your place across the lake! Maybe… I don’t know.” The sound of Linda’s voice dims under the sound of blood rushing in Camille’s ears as she stares into the man’s eyes.

_ It’s him. It’s definitely him. _

The chime of the door rings loudly behind her and she moves wildly in fright, knocking over the metal stand again. Camille scrambles to pick up the items she’s knocked onto the floor, hurrying out the door as soon as she is done.

\--- 

Camille sees the man- Duncan she knows now- a few more times in town over the next few days. She spends most of her time during the day out in the woods behind her house, taking photos of wild animals. She’ll edit them quietly in front of the roaring fire in her cabin and even sends them to her old neighbours who she is happy to find are keeping tabs on her as they promised. 

Camille and Emily go out for dinner at the Collins Family Restaurant at the other end of town. It’s a small place, with some familiar faces working while they sit down to eat. Camille recognizes a few faces, and Emily greets everyone by name. They order and settle into a casual conversation over their drinks when Camille asks Emily about him.

“Duncan?” The blonde woman thinks for a moment, trying to place the name. 

“Oh right- he's the older guy that lives up near the lake right? Across from you?” Camille nods her head. “He’s super nice- comes into the diner a lot. Always leaves a nice tip.” Emily shrugs not having much more information to share. A smirk rises on her face. 

“He’s kind of cute actually- for an older guy- why, you interested?” Camille swats at Emily while Emily bursts into laughter. She keeps egging Camille on, not ready to let it go just yet. “Hey I bet you anything he’s well off with the kind of tips he leaves- you could have yourself a sugar daddy who is actually attractive!”

Camille decides to just keep quiet- and not mention that she knows the man, and rather thinks she hates him more than anything. 

\---

Camille starts to regret ever coming to Triple Oak and doesn’t know what the hell she was doing, traveling halfway across the country and for what.  _ ‘You don’t have a clue.’  _ She chides herself as she drives into town. 

_ ‘What did you actually think you were going to do?’ _ She grips the steering wheel harder with one hand, reaching to turn up the radio.  _ ‘You’ve found him. Now what.’ _ She grits her teeth realizing that for all the time she had spent imagining finding this man, telling him what he had done to her, what he had taken from her, and killing him, she had never considered how incapable she would be of pulling it off.

She feels the panic rise in her chest at the thought of being so close to what she thought she wanted, and her resolve slowly starting to crumble around her. Despite her neighbour, she actually likes it here, the peace and quiet. She enjoys her small cottage on the lake, and the friends she has made. Now her head is only filled with thoughts of what she could lose if she even tried.

She parks her car, hopping out and walking towards the diner, head in the clouds. The door chimes as she walks into the diner and sees him- Duncan. He’s sitting at the bar eating quietly.

Camille hesitates for a moment, ready to turn on her heel but decides against it. She sits a seat down from him, and Emily catches her eye from behind the counter- Camille curses her silently as she wiggles her eyebrows between her and Duncan. “Winter coffee?” She asks, a smile playing on her face.

“Yeah, thanks.”

She sees that Duncan is watching when Emily pours the bourbon into her mug. She decides to break the awkward silence, not knowing what else to say.

“It’s funny that we’re neighbours.”

His voice is gruff and low- very likely a smoker- “Yes, that is funny isn’t it.” Neither of them really laughs. The seconds tick by and feel like hours.

“You live in the house with the big porch.” Duncan breaks the silence, and Camille just stares ahead at the wall behind the counter, sipping her coffee.

“Yes.”

“I live in the grey cabin, just across the lake.” He continues on.

“It’s so funny.” Camille can’t help but deliver the words with a dry tone, eyes still fixed on the wall, unwilling or maybe unable to look Duncan in the eyes.

Duncan laughs in stark contrast to her tone. “That is funny.” 

“I like it here.” Camille doesn’t know what else to say, but Duncan seems happy enough to carry on the small talk. “Me too.”

“It’s peaceful.” Duncan nods in agreement, sipping at his coffee. “It makes me peaceful.” Camille says the last part out loud, though she only meant to think it. She does feel peaceful here.

“Me too.” 

They don’t get any farther into their conversation before a man slumps down at the seat between them, slapping a newspaper down on the counter and scarring Camille nearly out of her skin. She jumps, spilling coffee across the wide counter, and immediately starts grabbing napkins to wipe up the mess.

“It’s okay!” Emily is wiping at the mess, reassuring Camille that nothing is wrong. Camille thanks her, feeling entirely too overwhelmed by the whole situation. By sitting less than five feet away from that man. By the scare, sounding more like a gunshot in her ears than anything else.

She leaves hurriedly, not noticing a rather concerned Duncan Vizla looking after her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I could re-write and edit this story till the cows come home but then I would never post it- so on with the show!

The next time they meet, Duncan is sitting at a booth in the diner. Camille returns his wave and makes for the bar stools, but a very persistent Emily is waiting to steer her his way. She introduces them to each other, pretending she doesn’t know they have already met and gently shoves Camille into the booth across from Duncan.

They talk about everything and nothing. Where Camille had moved from, what brought her here. Camille tells him that she had just gotten back from a trip to the next town over. She feels silly when she pulls out the envelope of prints and hands them to Duncan. There were no photo labs in Triple Oak, so it was a bit of a drive to get them, but it was something to do. A badge of honour to tack up on her walls in the cabin.

Duncan lays them out on the table, appreciating each one individually.

“These are very good.” He picks up a photo of two wolves standing guard amongst the underbrush of the dense woods and examines it closely. 

“You’re not from around here...are you?” Camille decides that she may as well use the opportunity to get more information out of him.

“No.” Duncan keeps flipping through the photos, stuck on one with a beaver peering timidly up at the photographer. He smiles- or at least Camille will count the small tug at the corner of his lip as one- since he outburst of awkward laughter the first time they met here, Camille has yet to see the man smile or emote what-so-ever. 

“Like Europe or something?”

“Mmhm.” Duncan nods. A man of very few words.

Camille learns that Duncan is retired- from a ‘traveling funeral business’. The phrase makes her taste the iron tang of blood in her mouth, though none is there. 

_ ‘Bullshit. _ ’

Camille had been shocked the day they first met when she didn’t see any immediate shock in his eyes. Years had passed since  _ that _ day, but she was sure if this many really was the one sending her hundreds of thousands of dollars every year, he had to have at least known what she looked like. But it’s at this point that Camille confirms Duncan truly has no concept of who she is-  _ who she really is to him _ . Even with all the prodding into his personal life and occupation, he didn’t seem fazed at all. Didn’t seem to put any of the pieces she was grabbing at together. 

“How many countries have you been to?” Camille turns the conversation away from what she feels is a path dangerously close to revealing her.

“99.” Duncan continues flipping through photos nonchalantly. He peers over the tops of his glasses at Camille between photos, eyes crinkling to focus back in when he tilts to look at the black and white prints. The more Camille watches him, the simpler and more human he becomes.

“Most people don’t even know 99 countries.” She finds herself strangely caught between her anger towards him, simmering just below the surface, and genuine curiosity.

Duncan names off ten countries with ease, each one spoken with an inflection that gave him a very worldly and experienced air. Camille balks at his ability to speak an impressive eight languages. 

“You should teach a class at the school. How many teachers have actually seen the places you have?” Duncan looks across the table at her pensively. “Would you do it?” She doesn’t really know where the question came from- and quickly questions her decision to ask a  _ gunman _ to educate the young minds of the community.

“No.” The small smile on Camille’s face drops. “Why not?”

“I don’t know how to talk to kids.” Duncan answers her prodding genuinely. He looks a little bit lost at the thought. Camille wonders later at how open and honest his expressions have been since they first exchanged words. Though small and almost imperceptible, they are certainly there and Camille can’t help but pick up on them.

“Oh, right.” 

\---

Camille is surprised to find- from Emily and her ties in the local gossip mill- that Duncan had reached out to the Principal at the elementary school in town to ask about volunteer opportunities, the very same day he had told her he wouldn’t consider it. She isn’t surprised however that Emily is keeping tabs on Duncan Vizla.

“You said you weren’t good with kids?” Camille questioned him when she saw him next at the diner. It had become a trend this week, catching him here in the afternoons during his stop for coffee or pie.

“I can try. It can’t be that hard can it?” Camille just smiled. 

She doesn’t bother protesting when Duncan grabs both of their bills and heads to the old-fashioned till at the top of the counter to pay. Lise, one of the older women who works a few hours here and there in the afternoons, greets Duncan with a large smile. She speaks with Duncan in a language that Camille doesn’t understand and looks like she is speaking with an old friend all the while.

Emily scurries up to the booth, seeing her opportunity.

“Well well well. You tell him to volunteer, and he says he won’t but does. And is he paying your bill? What won’t the man do?” She whispers thank god- Camille knows Duncan would have heard otherwise. She playfully smacks at Emily and chuckles at the girl's infectious giggling, trying not to dwell on that statement.

She comes with him to the school and sets herself up on the swings outside, waving to him as he makes his way inside. She swings slowly, the tips of her toes catching the dirt, and breathes in the crisp clear air.

There was no lack of fresh air here in Triple Oak, and the small town seated between high peaked mountains seemed to be only nature and peace. Camille had barely been in the town for two weeks, but she could feel her muscles relaxing, her mind clearing.

It may have been a touch lonely out in that cabin, but she preferred it to the noise and cramped studio apartment in the city. She felt as though this was the first time she had truly been able to think. To have a truly clear head for her thoughts to just slow down and breathe. She found it strange that this place, living just a stone's throw away from  _ him, _ was turning out to be the most peaceful place on Earth.

\---

Camille is pacing around her living room lost in thought when she catches movement out her front window, stops, and spots Duncan trudging up the long driveway to her cabin, a bright pink package in his hand. She pulls on her oversized coat and pulls it around her as she steps onto the porch. Her hands cross in front of her, chest leaning on the railing as she peers down at Duncan 

“Hey there.” She greets him with a quizzical look on her face.

“I brought you something.” Duncan passes the gift-wrapped box to her and she leans down, accepting the package between the slats of the railing.

“You told me how much you like knives so-'' Duncan refers back to their conversation on the swings when Camille awkwardly made conversation about the large knife in the brown bag he had brought. She realized then that maybe Duncan was right when he said he didn’t know how to talk to kids, and it made her chuckle dryly to herself.

She pulls off the pink wrapping paper to reveal a black box with a silver latch. “I thought this might be something. '' Duncan has a rather proud look on his face. She sets down the box and pops the latch, opening the cover. Inside, is a black and gunmetal gray handgun. She wasn’t sure what she expected, but this definitely was not it. The shock on her face must be apparent as Duncan goes on.

“It comes in black if you like that better.” Camille almost laughs, almost but not quite, too shocked to do anything. 

“I...I don’t know how to shoot.” She stumbles over the words still stunned at the gift, not knowing what else to say.

“That’s okay. I’m a teacher now, remember?” Duncan smiles up at her, moving the lapel of his coat to show the  _ ‘Hi My Name is Duncan’ _ sticker the school had given him, still stuck to his black turtleneck.

Duncan tells Camille to meet him there the next day at eleven in the morning. He’ll take her into the woods and teach her how to shoot. Camille just nods, still stunned and very confused, thanking Duncan for the gift.

He just smiles and turns on his heel making his way back down her driveway towards his truck. Camille watches him drive away while her mind races, still standing on the porch with the case and gun in hand. 

\---

That night, Camille eats by the fireplace, watching a movie on her laptop. She feels disconnected- unable to concentrate on the movie at all. While she cleans she leaves the movie playing just to fill the cabin with some noise, some voices to keep her distracted from the ones inside her mind.

She runs herself a hot bath, filling the deep clawfoot tub with soaps, and adds another log to the fire burning in the living room. 

Sinking into the hot water, she wishes that she had someone there to keep her company. For most of her life, she has spent the lonely hours of the night dreaming, wishing for her family- her friends, to drown out the all-encompassing loneliness. She missed them so much, but could barely remember them anymore. Couldn’t picture their faces. 

_ ‘Only his.’ _ She thought, tears rolling down her cheeks. She felt torn apart like her soul was spilling out of her. Coming here hadn’t made anything better. She could barely stand to admit to herself that the longer she was here, the more she enjoyed it and wanted to stay. The more she spoke to Duncan...

Camille laughed darkly and more tears sprang from dim eyes at the situation she had found herself in- she had followed the paper trail right to the front door of the man who had killed her family. The man who had wrenched open the door to the car, pointed a gun at her head, and in what she could only assume was shock, didn’t pull the trigger.

Now that she had finally found him- she was sorely disappointed. Nothing felt different- the pain- it was all still there. Nothing had changed. And the more she got to know Duncan- the harder it became to reconcile that he was in fact the same man from all those years ago.

This man seemed kind. He had a certain honesty about him that she couldn’t place- not in his words so much but his eyes- always looking so genuine. She looked out the bathroom door at the handgun, still in its case on her coffee table. She’d found the gesture rather sweet, in a roundabout and strange way.

The pit of anger in her stomach was fading, instead replaced by confusion and hurt. She dunked herself in the water, just content to be in its warm embrace for a few moments before breaking the surface for air.

Rising from the tub, Camille pulled the plug to let the water drain and wrapped herself in a towel. Padding her way across the cabin, water dripping onto the floor and marking her steps, she stared out the bedroom window, across the lake at Duncan’s cabin.

She couldn’t make out much, just the fuzzy lights on the porch and the light from inside the cabin in the distance. 

_ I can’t do this. I can’t do...whatever it was I came here looking to do. _


End file.
